


Push and Pull

by youmeandthehurricane



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6435010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmeandthehurricane/pseuds/youmeandthehurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Danvers is furious and she's going to take it out on Maxwell Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push and Pull

Alex Danvers was furious. Anger coursed like molten lava through her blood as she stormed through the underground halls of the DEO. At first she had stomped around aimlessly, hoping the act of walking would clear her head and calm her down. Instead, she’d almost worked herself into a frenzy of circulating thoughts, going round and round, making her more and more mad. Supergirl, her sister Kara, was hurt. James Olsen was missing. Hank Henshaw was out there by himself searching for Jimmy while the DEO medics tended, so far unsuccessfully, to Kara. Alex felt useless, something that she hadn’t felt in a long time. At that moment she hated her humanity and its weaknesses against the powerful and strange aliens that were defining her life.

She was scared for Kara, but the anger that pulsed through her was reserved for those responsible for Kara’s predicament. Non, Kara’s crazed Kryptonian uncle. The Black Mercy that Non had sent. The criminals that had been released from the Phantom Zone. And all the ordinary Earthlings that were against Supergirl, the technicians that had designed the Red Tornado that had led to Bizarro. Maxwell Lord. Maxwell Lord. That son of a bitch was being held in a containment cell deep within the DEO base after his involvement with Bizarro. Alex’s anger flared. She suddenly knew where she was going.

* * * *

As the door to the cell opened and Alex’s eyes rested on Maxwell Lord, lounging languidly on the block inside the cell, she felt her fists clench. The blinding rage was so strong, yet Max had been unusually helpful over the last few days, she had to admit. He was the best thing she could think of to take out her anger on right now though, so she stepped forward.

Max heard the hiss of the containment cell door open and stood up as Alex strode quickly across the small space. 

‘Agent Danvers, what a sur-‘ He began, but was cut off abruptly as she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and shoved him onto his back where he had just been lying, her other arm across his throat.

‘Shut up!’ Alex hissed. ‘Just shut up!’

His eyes narrowed as she crouched above him, one knee in his stomach, her pupils large and boiling. Max had seen her angry before, but not like this. She’d hit him numerous times, but this was different. 

‘Alex?’ he managed to choke out.

‘This is all your fault!’ She hissed again, slamming him roughly back into the block. Silence fell. Moments passed as Max waited for Alex’s fists to rain down on him, colliding with his jaw, but they didn’t come. Instead, Alex stared furiously at Max’s surprised, handsome face and then let go of him, standing and moving away. Max got up slowly, straightening his crumpled shirt. He stared, bewildered, at Alex’s tense back, waiting for her to turn and hurl abuse at him. But nothing came.

‘Alex?’ he said again, softer this time.

‘Don’t,’ she said, her voice strained. ‘I’ll hit you.’

‘You usually do.’ Max replied. Even turned away from him, Alex could hear the smug smile in his voice. ‘Taking your anger out on me again?’

After a pause, Alex said, ‘I was going to.’ She felt him take a few steps towards her so she turned around, ready to intercept him, but he stopped a couple of steps away, his hands raised. Captivated by her, Max reached out a hand. 

‘There are other ways to defuse,’ he said.

Alex stared blankly at the offered hand, wondering if he meant what she thought he meant. The idea grew in her mind as she lifted her eyes to meet his dark, inquiring ones. 

Max had surprised himself. He thought he held only contempt for this woman, but had instead found respect, even admiration, for her over the last few days. And now he was offering to be her metaphorical punching bag. He found himself contemplating whether he was taking advantage of her and decided that he could if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be the outlet for her anger. The thought made his mouth go dry and a tingle race along his spine.

Alex took his hand hesitantly and stepped closer to him. Max gently lowered his head, leaving mere millimetres of space between his lips and hers, letting her choose. His breath raced across Alex’s chin and she thought, bizarrely, of the calm before the storm. And then she kissed him. She felt his hands go to her sides and he grunted in surprise. Over and over again, barely coming up for air, she kissed him. He stepped forward, making her stagger back to the wall of the cell. Her back hit the wall with a soft thump, knocking what little breath she had out of her. Max took the opportunity to drag his mouth softly, tenderly along her jaw to her ear, down her neck to her collarbone. Alex shut her eyes tightly. She knew this was wrong. So, so wrong. But she didn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him as her gut twisted as her mind jumped ahead a few steps and she felt the fury flood her again. It was primitive, but it was exactly what she needed and she knew from his touch that Max was more than willing to be her plaything. 

Max returned to her mouth, exploring, tasting, letting her take control. He felt her hands glide down his torso to the front of his pants where her fingers tugged at the button there. A jolt went through his body at her insistence, a hollow feeling opening up in his stomach. He pushed more tightly against her, crushing her body against the wall, delving deeper with each kiss, one hand moving unconsciously up her side to her breast, the other on the wall, bracing himself around her.

Alex was lost in a sea of red. Her only conscious thought was of Maxwell Lord was pressed against her so tightly she could hardly breathe and being perfectly fine with it. She arrested his wandering hand, directing it instead to the waistband of her trousers which he began to undo and push roughly down her hips. She followed suit, releasing the button and zip on his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Her hand brushed across the growing shape hidden by his boxer shorts and she felt him jerk ever so slightly as he practically ripped her underwear down. She was in the process of removing his when his hands left her body and did the work for her, his muscles tight.

Suddenly, they found themselves in a bizarre and dangerous situation, half naked and joined at the mouth. If any of the DEO members were to pay a visit to the cells, Alex would be crucified on the spot, her career and life ruined. But she kept going, driven by the rage that had yet to be satisfied, a rage that was, in part, flamed by the DEO. Bolstered by this thought, she wrapped one hand around Max’s cock and tugged softly. Max’s breath hitched, as if he was choking, and he suddenly became incapable of continuing their manic kissing. Instead, he rested cheek to cheek with Alex, his hot breath a pant in Alex’s ear. She tugged again and Max made a short, whimpering moan as his breath stopped short in his chest. Alex felt her heart thump harder and harder as her hands caused Max to make those noises in her ear, but she also knew that her desire was growing. Gently, she pulled him close, rubbing the tip of his hardened cock against her sensitive parts. This time, her gasp of pleasure mingled with his. His hips began to rock slowly as she pulled him, throbbing, back and forth against her. Max, his arms trembling, returned to plying her mouth with deep kisses, but they were erratic, broken with panting breaths.

‘Alex,’ Max moaned involuntarily as she tugged slightly harder than the last time. He hadn’t expected to be so completely devoid of self-control in this encounter, but she had him at her mercy. His smugness was gone. Hearing Max say her name, Alex’s gut dropped. This was more than she had bargained for. She didn’t want to want him as more than a punching bag, but she did. The feel of his stubble grazing across her chin, his tongue gliding smoothly through her lips, his arms making a protective box around her, and the heat radiating from the smooth patch of skin at the very bottom of his hard stomach muscles had completely torn her from reality. And she was about to rid herself of the bubbling, molten fury in her veins that had caused her to half choke Max the moment she walked into his cell in the first place.

Max felt her hand tighten around him and his heart stutter as he realised that this was the moment. Alex guided him, pushing him into place and then groaned as Max brought his hips forward slowly, pushing himself inside her. For a moment they stood still, frozen and trembling. Max was buried to the hilt and Alex could feel him twitching inside her body. She had one arm curled around his back, nails clinging to the skin, and the other above his shoulders, her hand buried in his soft, brown hair. He had stopped kissing her now, pressing his forehead against hers. They stared blankly into the other’s eyes. Then Max saw the light flare in Alex’s pupils and knew that she could wait no longer.

He pulled back, an agonisingly slow movement that caused them both to shudder, and then thrust forward slamming his hips against hers. Their bones clacked together and the impact knocked their breath out in a huff, but he didn’t stop to recover this time. Max gazed fiercely at Alex, their eyes locked, as he drove into her again and again, harder and harder, faster and faster until he didn’t know of anything but the sounds of Alex beneath him and the way she bucked her hips furiously against him, determined as she was to shatter the wall of red behind her eyes with the collision of their bodies. The grunts he made caused cracks to appear in her rage, the same way the sounds of her fists hitting a punching bag would’ve been therapeutic. Later she would reflect that having furious, brutal sex with Maxwell Lord was certainly not something she would’ve prescribed herself as a calming agent. Yet as she stood there, sure that her heart was going to tear a hole in her chest and that he was going to slam himself through her vital organs, up through her body to her throat, she felt her anger at the aliens, at Non, at a world that didn’t really accept her sister, at Max himself shatter and collapse with each thrust of Max’s hips. In its place, she was filled with an intense, primal pleasure, a twisting in her gut and chest that just wanted more. She wanted him to destroy her. To feel the heat from his skin burn her. To feel his lips leave bruises on her neck and her jaw. To feel his chest push her into the wall, flattening and crushing her ribs, her lungs, driving what little breath she had left out.

Max felt like he was on fire and was dimly aware that he was rapidly reaching the point where he was going to explode. Alex writhed under him, letting out a short, sharp, high gasp with each impact. Her muscles squeezed around his cock and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She knew it too, and this gave him a renewed burst of frenzied passion as he pounded ever deeper inside of her until one thrust hit her so hard inside that she careened over the precipice, crying out. Alex felt herself crumble piece by piece as fire engulfed her, starting at the place where she was joined with Max and spreading up into her stomach, through her chest, her throat, like licking flames. Her back arched and her whole body went rigid as she tried desperately to suck in a breath. The feeling swallowed her whole and she shook uncontrollably as her legs gave out from underneath her so that Max had to hold her up. She was completely unaware of him still moving inside her as he gave an erratic last few thrusts before his body reached its limit and he felt the same raging inferno spread through him, emptying himself inside her abdomen.

Through force of will, Max remained standing despite his shaking legs and Alex’s weight as he held her up. He gently slid out of her body, careful not to hurt her more than he already feared he had and fought to get his breath back. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the cell.

After what seemed like hours of clutching each other, Max lowered Alex gently to the ground and promptly collapsed beside her, their backs against the wall. They were a mess. Max dragged his boxers and pants up his legs from where they’d remained around his ankles, wincing as they passed over tender and beaten skin. He buttoned them loosely and then reached down Alex’s legs for hers, as she seemed shell shocked. Spurred to life by the touch of Max’s hands, Alex gingerly drew up her trousers, covering her legs and the wet spot of pain that would assault her senses later on.

Alex swallowed and it felt like a tennis ball was trying to find its way down her throat. She turned her head to look at Max whose eyelids were fluttering, his chest rising and falling visibly, but slowing as time passed. An alarming thought flashed through her slow mind. He was in pain. Their insane sex escapade had been more like beating each other to within an inch of their lives which, she realised ashamedly, had been exactly what she’d wanted. And Max had let her do it, let her flay him until he was broken. A strange feeling flowered in her chest and she reached out to take his lifeless hand gently in her own. His eyes opened sleepily at her touch, taking her in properly for the first time as he regained his senses.

‘Alex,’ he murmured, his voice husky and low.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. It was all she had the energy to do.

They lay for there for quite some time, unable to move. Alex rested, but remained awake, her mind clear and calm for the first time in weeks. Max, leaning heavily against her, slept deeply. She didn’t let go of his hand until he woke and sat up stiffly.

‘Ow,’ he growled, an amused smile lighting up his weary face that still managed to contain some of the smugness that Alex associated with Maxwell Lord.

‘I’m sorry,’ she began, but he cut her off.

‘I’m not.’

His eyes were brighter now, urgent. With a jolt, Alex wondered how long she’d been in here. Distant panic crept through her mind at the thought of being caught. Max nodded slightly, as if knowing what she was thinking. Alex leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek, a promise that she wouldn’t forget, and then got painfully to her feet and left the cell. Her heart fluttered, confused, as she realised that Maxwell Lord felt something akin to love for her. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, she might love him too.

Max spent a long time on the floor of the cell after Alex left. He couldn’t wipe the tired, delirious smile off of his face.


End file.
